


The Seijou Club

by Tobsana



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood and Violence, Breakfast Club AU, Detention, Drugs, Friendships made, I read something like this, Library, M/M, Suicide Attempt, and i had to like, but it's like really different, but the whole thing is different, like the idea is the same, write my own twist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobsana/pseuds/Tobsana
Summary: When you spend eight hours stuck in a room with one another, you start to realize that no one is all that different, and that we need to be honest, and be true to ourselves so that we can fully understand another person to the extent of befriending them. With no lies behind our words, we claim that we were glad that we were all slapped into his room together, because as we leave, we will now know ourselves more.And we will continue to be friends despite what others think of us.Because not everyone understands us as we do to each other.





	The Seijou Club

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by [quinnlocke](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11444817) Sincerely Yours, so like go read it. Now, Please, support their work and amazing writing because wow! I loved it so much.

There was nothing different about this morning compared to the previous mornings in their high school career life. They woke up, at six in the morning, got ready within an hour and headed to the school, the meeting time being eight in the morning.

Their destination was their private school, and even with how different they were, they had the same purpose for being there at such an early hour on the weekend.

Their student passes weren’t valid during the weekends, which was a shame really because then they would have to tell their parents about the unfortunate news about gaining a ticket to detention, and ask for a ride to the school at such an early hour on the weekend.

It was hard enough, for Oikawa to be lectured late at night, and be questioned why and how did he get detention, and he would rather have the silent treatment his mother would often give to his father, but the woman in the driver seat just wouldn’t shut up about how Oikawa’s day off had become an utterly waste, and it should be put into studying for any upcoming exams.

His father, was on the passenger seat, had his phone out, typing and sliding his finger every now and then, occasionally humming, agreeing with Oikawa’s mother as if he actually had a clue what she was ranting about this time. Once Oikawa’s mother finally stops at the entrance gate of Aoba Johsai High School, she turns her entire torso to face Oikawa with an ugly frown, and her brows stretched upward.

“Listen here Tooru, if this ever happens again, you can say goodbye to your phone, your laptop, your free time with your friends, everything! Do you understand?”

Oikawa holds himself back from saying something he knew he would regret, but he wanted to see his mother’s reaction when he found a flaw her punishment. “How will I do my homework without them then?”

“You kids, always relying on technology,” his father finally speaks up, but his eyes were still glued to the screen of his phone. Either it be for work, or his own entertainment, he doesn’t let the device go. His mother nods her head once, narrowing her eyes at her son, she opens her mouth to say one more thing, but the father interrupts her. “Leave the kid alone, he’s a teenager, when I was his age I was doing all sorts of things ending me up in detention.”

He quickly changes sides, Oikawa ponders about his father, on why he always had to pick a fight with someone in the house. His father always wants to fight with the both of them, always saying shit about Oikawa, and then he goes and says crap about his mother. He was always in that grey line in between, wanting to have his own stage to stand on.

His mother’s frown then diverts towards his father, “I wasn’t like that when I was his age.” She retorts, and his father only scoffs, saying she was a woman, and that their thoughts and actions come differently, that it shouldn’t even be compared to one another in the end. She fumes at the comment, the way his father had specifically said _woman_ had sounded insulting and degrading.

Turning her attention back to Oikawa, her furrow deepens, “Your brother never acted out of the norm, he was always such a straight student,” Oikawa coughs as his mother continues, “and look at him now, attending Osaka University.”

Oikawa looks away from her, grabbing on to the door handle, pulling it towards him, letting the door open just a bit. Before pushes it fully though, not quiet stepping out he mutters under his breathe but loud enough for everyone to hear, “He only chose Osaka because it’s nine hours away from you.”

He didn’t see his mother’s reaction, but her yell was enough to make Oikawa jump out of the car, slamming the door closed. He walks behind the car, as he exited on the left side of the car where he should’ve had left on the right where the gates of the school was. But before he could step too far into the school’s property, his father calls him back.

His hand was outstretched from the window, and his damn phone was still clutched with his left hand. “Here, if you really hate it in there, try to bribe him or something.” His father drops the money once Oikawa lifted his palm to obtain whatever his father had wanted to give him.

But before he could give it back or drop it on the floor for his father to witness, his mother pressed the gas and zoomed off out of there, leaving Oikawa behind in the cold morning. He watches the beige car until it disappears as it turns left, heading towards Oikawa’s father’s work place.

He looks down at his palm, looking at the nice folded up pieces of paper, stretching them out there was a total six bills, ten thousand yen bills each. He looks down at the face painted on the paper, and curses; he crumbles up the paper and pockets it into his pants. He won’t use it; he has nothing planned for today anyway, so he might as well stay.

Another car stops behind him, but he ignores it as he continues forth towards the school.

“Explain to me why you couldn’t drive yourself?” a man, who looked no older than forty stops the car abruptly at the entrance of the school.

“I don’t have a linecese, there’s no parking at the school,” Hanamaki has a huge list for his old man, sticking out each finger as he tells him the different reasons on why he couldn’t ride his own vehicle his father had bought him, to, as Hanamaki quotes, “Leave him at peace,” but his father only silences him once he sticks out his third finger.

“Just shut up already, why didn’t you tell me about your detention until now?” he angrily asked, looking at Hanamaki with a frown that screams more of hatred with the fact he didn’t rely the information to his father than disapproval about the entire dentition thing. “We could have had Yuuto drop you off.”

Yuuto was a personal driver of Hanamaki; he had taken Hanamaki to school for as long as he could remember, and since the young master never went out in the weekends, because he had nothing to do with his life, Yuuto’s days off corresponded with Hanamaki’s off days from school.

“I did tell you.” Was Hanamaki’s short reply, his body was composed, sitting far from his father the best he could. His right particularly plastered to the interior of the passenger door. Not that he was scared of his father, like he was going to hit him, but he felt so uncomfortable with his father that he felt more relaxed the farther away he was.

“I don’t recall anything about you having detention.” His father eyed him carefully, honestly filled his eyes, but so did anger. He honestly didn’t hear anything about detention from his son, but he would say that he never told him. There was a big chance the young boy did say it, but it was his father that wasn’t listening. “What the hell are you wearing?” his father’s voice raises, and Hanamaki flinches at the man’s exploding voice.

Hanamaki looked down at his clothes, black skinny jeans, his thighs exposed by the cuts in his pants; while a white button up shirt with a green, faded markings of a jelly fish at top, and a pink bomber jacket that had black designs at the front and back. In all honestly, nothing really did match, but the way the young male wore it, he was able to pull it off perfectly.

Yet his father didn’t think so, “This is where the money I work hard to earn goes to? Where the hell is your uniform?”

“We don’t need to wear it for detention.” He replies, in a soft voice, never picking it up because he knew the consequences if he ever did. His father grumbles under his breath, but he slides back down onto his own seat. Gripping the wheel, trying to relax himself. “Hurry up and go, I have to go to work.”

“Yes sir.” Hanamaki opens the door, unclicking his seat belt and shuts the door; he couldn’t even fit a wave goodbye to his father before the man had driven off. Hanamaki huffs once, pushing his hands into his bomber’s pocket and heads off.

Not a second later does a black car, one broken up and beaten down; completely different from the new car his father had bought for himself shows up. It was dirty at the bottom, but it looked like something that couldn’t come off even if you washed it up, rusty and old, something that is barely functioning.

“I know these days have been hard for you Issei, but don’t worry.” A tall, skinny woman with curly black hair smiles directly at her eldest son, his siblings were in the back, taking up all three seats and rumbling about. Much too awake for the triplets to just haven waken up. Matsukawa was sure his mother had let them take too many sips of her morning coffee.

“Everything will work out in the end.” Matsukawa nods his head, finishing his mother’s sentence. The woman in the driver seat, looks at Matsukawa with a tired look, yet her eyes shone with gratitude and understanding. She hasn’t let the steering wheel go since she entered the car, but in the last minute she uses her right hand and cradles Matsukawa’s face with the palm of her hand.

Her thumb slides across the male’s cheeks, and her eyes start get to get shiner, her lower lip trembles as she apologizes to Matsukawa before the male gets out of the car, and carefully pushes the door back in a certain way, knowing the car well enough, that if he had done it in any other way the car would fall apart in his hands.

The car slowly starts up again, passing both Matsukawa and Hanamaki, leaving their field of vision. Hanamaki watches Matsukawa from the corner of his eyes, and the taller male gives him only a glare, “What?” he asks, but Hanamaki has no answer to give, walking off as if he was never staring at him in the first place.

The two head towards the school, one in front of the other.

“So that’s it huh? You’re a fucking screw up just like your mother and your old man?” His voice was dripped in poison, slamming his hands against the horn of the car, causing noise to come out of the car continuously, and distracting the peaceful morning. “You’re supposed to be the winner Hajime! Not another fucking loser! You’re the reason, you’re the reason this family is so fucking fucked up. We put our hopes on to you, but fuck! Instead you decide to fuck that up too huh!” He roars at Iwaizumi who was sitting at the passenger seat.

Yet neither of them, not even once looked at one another. His father had continued to scream, accusing Iwaizumi of many things. While the boy only sat in the passenger seat, his eyes dull of color and absent from the conversation. His body was relaxed, used to the yelling, used to having it all go to shit in the end.

The man stops his car, unlocking the doors. “You better find a ride home, because I will not tolerate losers around me.” He pauses, as Iwaizumi grabs hold of the car, pulling the handle to push it open, but his father shakes his head, “Shit, might as well find another family to disappoint, I don’t want to see you in my fucking house.” The door shuts far too quickly for Iwaizumi to give a care.

But the window rolls down, the man wanting to get the last word in, even when Iwaizumi hadn’t said anything in the ten minute ride here, and besides, the whole ride to the school was just Iwaizumi’s father yelling and downgrading him, cursing at everything in sight that so much inconvenienced him in the smallest ways. “Did you fucking hear me you ungrateful child?”

Iwaizumi continues to walk forward, his steps confident, back straight as if he never was present in that car with his father. Yet his fist clenched and unclenched in his hoodie’s pocket, his breath hitched and wavered, eyes glossy for a second before he shuts them, opening them again to retain that cold demeanor.

The way to the library was quiet odd for all four of them.

The hallways were quiet, and it made them realize that the school was a lot bigger than what they remembered. Oikawa, grabbing on to both straps, lets his light blue backpack down, it was only filled with a notebook and a pen. He had homework assignments in it, hoping that the maybe the supervisor will allow him to do it, and if not then he’ll be able to secretly do it while he assigned something else.

He knew he can do both at the same time, so he really had no problem with it.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa walk in next, Matsukawa with his ashy black backpack that was worn and had a few marks that seem to have stained the fabric permanently hits the table, one table in front of Oikawa.

Oikawa, being the observant guy he was, realizes that boy in all black was carrying a lot of his stuff in his bag, which was odd. They were told they were only going to do is sit, so why bother carry such a heavy bag. Besides, there was a likely choice the supervisor was going to throw it away if caught with any distractions.

Hanamaki sits on another table, across from Matsukawa horizontally, his white backpack; cleaner and far higher quality is dropped on the floor, nothing in it for him to care enough to be careful with bag. Oikawa wasn’t as rich as the light-haired male, but he recognized that leather bag from magazines, and to be carelessly treated that way, he figured Hanamaki was someone with money.

The three of them are silenced; all in separate tables as they looked to the front, where they all had just came from. Waiting for their supervisor to arrive, since all three of them arrived early, perhaps thirty minutes early but it wasn’t like they really cared. They seriously all had just waken up two hours ago, they already cancelled whatever plans they previously had and so what harm does it do to arrive early.

Oikawa takes out his phone first, looking through which ever social media, but since it was so early in the weekend, nothing new was posted by his friends, all the news feed had was things Oikawa had already seen the night before. He sighs as he lays the phone on the table, stealing a quick glance behind him he opens up another app, one that specifically is hidden away in a folder on his phone.

Now, there was new feed, people from all around the world posting at different times, and there was various blogs he could find if he wanted to see something new compared to what he had on his own. He smiles at the little things, appreciates all the different landscapes and photography.

He reads every theory, every conspiracy from word to word, and it has him wanting to make something up on his own. That is until a new appearance makes itself known, he shuts off his phone, looking up from the table he sees a familiar face. His mouth opens to let out a silent gasp, and as sees the newcomer sit at a table next to him, cornered at the back he can’t help but stare a while longer.

He wants to ask him something, but before he could get the guts to do so, the supervisor for their detention shows up, looking at all four of them. He’s not someone Oikawa recognizes, and he looked rather strict and scary in his personal opinion. But that was fine, Oikawa was well liked by all his peers and teachers, this one man shouldn’t be so different.

He looked tired ad annoyed, as if he wasting his day here as well, he takes out a sheet of paper from his pocket, leaning against the desk behind him. He looks up from the paper, and everyone but the guy next to Oikawa give him a curious look back, wondering what they would be doing today.

But the supervisor doesn’t say a thing once he looks down at the paper. Perhaps a few minutes go by does everyone gets a bit anxious. Oikawa sneakily looks down at his phone wondering if the man was waiting for detention to start at its appointed time. Clicking the home button his entire phone screen lights up and the digital clock shows that it’s one minute before eight.

It only takes one second for the nine to change into a zero, and as Oikawa looks back up, the supervisor is already coughing into his fist, preparing his voice.

Oikawa slides his phone away, hitting the volume button down as he does. He feels the device vibrate, and he sighs in relief that he thought of it then before it rang out randomly later, and resulting to getting it taken away for the rest of the weekend. He pockets it into his khakis, knowing that his red plaid button up doesn’t have anywhere to store his phone in.

“It tells me here,” the man waves the white paper sluggishly, “who you are and what you did to earn a spot here. And I’ve got to say, you guys are quite a bunch.” He starts walking in between their tables, looking at everyone carefully, but then his eyes fall on Iwaizumi who had his hands inside the large hoodie of his.

Oikawa made a disgusted sound mentally, wondering why he was wearing such an awful color in the first place, and not only that, but he was also wearing his school uniform trousers, and from Oikawa’s view he could tell that Iwaizumi wasn’t wearing the lavender button up, just a regular blue shirt from what he could assume.

“Quiet the delinquents,” he says, the supervisor than throws his attention at Oikawa, and the boy promptly felt guilty and he wasn’t even entirely sure why. “Which one of you is Iwaizumi Hajime? From class five?” the man asked, waiting for Oikawa to answer, but the boy sits there patiently looking back at the man with fear in his eyes.

“So what of it?” a deep voice speaks up, and the adult in the room turns around to face the boy clad in a brown hoodie. Iwaizumi doesn’t turn his attention to the man; he focuses his eyes straight ahead, looking at nothing in particular.

“Nothing of it.” The supervisor says, heading straight back from where he first started. “Hanamaki Takahiro?”

“Sup.”

The supervisor looks up from the paper, looking at the boy in pink; he frowns as he takes in the male’s appearance. “Pink is for girls, young Hanamaki.”

“I believe that pink is a color, not a gender role.” He retorts back just as quickly, with all the time he has by himself he always comes up with scenarios in his head, finding different comebacks and pretending to be situations that may never happen in his lifetime. He smiles as he bounces a bit in his seat, glad that he was able to use one today.

“I don’t recall that I asked for you opinion on that matter young Hanamaki, Matsukawa Issei?” He calls out the next name before Hanamaki had any time to say anything else, now that the conversation was moving on Hanamaki stayed silent, and grumped a bit about how he was totally ready for an argument.

“Here.” The male answers raising his up mid-way before dropping it back down; he was hunched forward, all in black. Although his pants weren’t as dark as his ripped shirt, nonetheless those shoes he was wearing needed to go.

“Oikawa Tooru.” Everyone’s head turned to the back right desk, where Oikawa was sitting. He smiled shyly; turning to the supervisor he raised his hand, his shoulders hunched as he was trying to make himself look as small as possible. He hears Iwaizumi huff, mocking him and turning away, but Oikawa didn’t mind it as the supervisor nodded his head.

“Alright, so you know the rules you’re not allowed to do anything, and when I mean anything I mean you’re not allowed to talk, study, homework, read, text, social media, you might as well not breathe if you don’t want to see me next Saturday.” The man says, slipping the paper back into his pocket.

“But since you’re all phone addicts as I am,” Hanamaki wanted to smile, but the serious face on the man had made him decide to let it go, “I need all your cellular devices in this bin.” He grabs the first he sees, and slaps it on Matsukawa’s desk. The tallest teen in the room looks inside the bin, and then looked back up at the supervisor, waiting for something to be asked.

But the man says nothing, and only stares down at Matsukawa, waiting for something, anything really.

“I don’t own one.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m poor.” Matsukawa says it with confidence, knowing that he was poor, and he is poor, and making sure that everyone knew that wasn’t showing that he was bragging about the benefits he receives from programs, but the fact that he doesn’t care if he is poor, thinking that being poor doesn’t matter in any circumstance, and it’s just another factor in his life.

The man trusts Matsukawa, moving on to Hanamaki who gives a wide grin. “You see, you say cellular devices, and in all honestly I have two.” He throws out an old phone yet still one of the newer releases, and then his recent one. “But again, back to the cellular devices”, he pulls up his backpack, taking out a iPod, then a laptop and a tablet, “I have all these too.” He doesn’t wait for the man to ask him to put it in the bin, dropping it in regardless of what the man said.

“Are you here to brag about your wealth young Hanamaki?” he pulls the bin back towards him, now needing two hands with an extra weight he hadn’t expected.

“No, I just wanna know how long I can go without them you know? Since I’m so addicted, I wonder if I would actually die of boredom.” He laughs, leaning back against the wooden chair. He crosses his arms, and watches the man go to the table behind him. Hanamaki was actually expecting a reaction, but the man was a lot sturdier than Hanamaki had hoped.

Iwaizumi takes out an old phone, beaten up pretty badly, but the screen was still in good shape besides some crappy scratches. It was one of the touchscreens, but maybe one of the smallest touchscreens Oikawa had ever seen. Iwaizumi drops it in, not at all carrying that it makes an impactful sound as it hits Hanamaki’s own devices. But the boy up front doesn’t react to it either.

There’s no conversation between the two of them, and the supervisor quickly moves on to Oikawa. Oikawa at first, was really hoping this wouldn’t have happened, but of course it had to happen, and he didn’t log out of any of his social media accounts, and well specifically a certain social media account and he was pretty preoccupied with the fact that someone might look at it and threaten to show the whole world of what it contains.

“We don’t have all day Oikawa.” The man nudges the bin closer, and when he was so near the boy, Oikawa realizes that the supervisor was quiet tired, his eyes were a bit red, and his lids look as if it were going to drop any second now. Oikawa gulps and pats his pocket, pretending to check where it could be.

He then hears Hanamaki snicker, saying that they actually do have the entire day to waste and Oikawa not giving up his phone was a perfect way to waste such a beautiful day as this one.

“You’re not going to like, look at it are you?” Oikawa laughs awkwardly, finally pulling out his phone. He gulps again when the man’s frown deepens. “Yeah, invasion of privacy…” Oikawa looks as if he was going to start some lecture to the man who was probably a teacher himself, but he quickly dismissed the idea before carefully dropping it in.

Oikawa then looks away from the man, but the supervisor doesn’t leave his spot, waiting for something more. When Oikawa realizes this, he leans back against his seat, “I’m not like that kid over there, I seriously have nothing else, I,” he pauses when he finds the reason why he was still standing near his table. He looks down at his phone; on top of it were the six bills his father had given him.

“Are you trying to bribe me Oikawa?”

“No sir.” He quickly grabs the bills, and pockets it again, trying his hardest not to die from embarrassment. As the adult turns away, Hanamaki is heard once more, asking if that would work on the man, and that Hanamaki can offer him twice as much. He gets no answer, and it defeats Hanamaki’s fuel of fun. He sits down properly and pouts as he looks at the supervisor with disappointment.

“Again, you’re not allowed to do anything but waste your day here. You’re not even allowed to sleep. Do you understand?” he grabs a stack of lined paper at his side, as well as a few pens, “but you do have an assignment, I want an essay on who do you think you are, and why the hell did you do the things you did that winded you up here.”

“What if our asses get tired of sitting?” Oikawa’s hearing perks up at the new voice, turning his attention to Iwaizumi who, since the moment he entered the library looked just as bored and exhausted as ever, and those black bags under his eyes sure doesn’t do him any good, or well, maybe a little good in Oikawa’s opinion.

Realizing what he just thought off, he turns away, coughing into his fist, barely audible enough for anyone to take notice.

“Then find another place to sit on. Now if that’s all,” he pauses waiting for anyone else to say anything, passing the last paper to Oikawa, but after a five second silence he turns away heading towards the entrance of the library, “I’m taking my leave to my office, and I’ll leave the door open so you better keep your traps shut.”

He leaves in a matter of second, already at his own office that wasn’t all too far from the entrance of the door to the library, luckily for them, the door of the library was far from them, and in order to see the supervisor and vice versa they had to be sitting in a different angle, so they were out of sight.

“For a second I thought you said shitting, not sitting.” Hanamaki bursts into a muffled laughter, turning his head at the guy who had made that comment, which was the one dressed in all black. He looks at him with admiration in his eyes, glad that he wasn’t the only making jokes at this point.

“That’s hilarious!” he tells the male dressed in all black, wondering what would have happened if Iwaizumi had did say that. There were so many comebacks that go across his mind and each one tops the other. Matsukawa is left with a smirk, trying to contain his own laughter as well, but when Hanamaki’s muffles die down, everything goes back to silence.

Well, with the exception that Oikawa is actually writing his essay like a diligent student he was, and each time his pen would pat on the paper it would make a tapping and scratching noise. Hanamaki kicks up his feet, leaning his chair on two feet as he looks behind him, to see what Oikawa was doing.

“Hey man, we got eight hours here, there’s no reason to start it now.” He throws his arms behind him, his fingers locking at the back his neck, curiously waiting for Oikawa’s own response, but the male doesn’t say a thing. Purposely ignoring Hanamaki, and taking more of his attention on the paper before him.

He scribbles and he groans at each mistake he makes, starting his paper over on the next line. He has a notebook filled with paper, and a table up front with a stack of them. He can screw up as many times as he wants, there will be more paper to waste his ink on, as long it’s to perfection.

“You know it’s not for a grade right?” Another voice, deeper than the last speaks up. It was closer to him too, looking up from the paper, he looks at Matsukawa, nodding his head silently, knowing it wasn’t for a grade.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t try my best though.” He responds, letting everyone know it doesn’t matter whose reading it and if it was a grade or not, going half at it wasn’t something Oikawa did. “If you’re going to hit it, then hit it until it breaks, it’s what I always say.” He preachers, putting his pen back at the paper.

Matsukawa eyes widen for a bit, he then nods his head, “At least you got something moving you, that’s the important part.” He then agrees with Oikawa looking at the paper before him he debates if he should start it now or later, he’ll have to turn it in eventually, but in all honestly he really doesn’t want to do it.

The paper and pen are all there, all he needs to do is pick up the pen and just write, but his fingers ignore what his brain says and he sighs in defeat, knowing it won’t get done if he doesn’t do it now.

“Hey, we’re all in different classes huh?” as soon as Matsukawa figured he should do it, his hand stops from moving looking back at the boy in the pink bomber jacket. “I mean, I never seen you guys around, er, well maybe Oikawa, but that’s a given.” Matsukawa turned to look behind him, Oikawa had stopping writing again.

“What do you mean that’s a given?” An annoyed expression is displayed on his face, he leans away from the desk, no longer hunching over his paper to properly look at Hanamaki.

Hanamaki throws his hands up in the air, defending himself, saying he didn’t mean anything by it. “It’s just, aren’t you the Oikawa Tooru, banging the girls from Class 1 to Class 6?” Hanamaki wiggles his eyebrows, and throwing a grin at Oikawa, waiting for the male to admit it, since from what he heard, it’s all been rumors and no confirmation.

Oikawa is actually frozen at the response, looking at Hanamaki surprised, and he wasn’t at all that sure how he should even respond to that kind of question. His entire high school career, or well when he started getting recognized for his looks and academics everyone had simply assumed, and the girls who were part of the rumor nodded their head, true or not; only wanting everyone to have the idea that they slept with the great Oikawa Tooru.

No one ever dared came up to Oikawa for a real answer though.

“I heard you steal girls from other guys too.” Matsukawa leans back on his chair, slouching as he picks up his left leg placing his ankle at the top of his right knee. Then, a body rose up from his sleep; Oikawa turns to the guy at his left, who looked rather interested in this conversation.

“Why are you so interested?” He proclaims, scooting an inch left, looking at Iwaizumi carefully.

“I got my girlfriend stolen.” And Oikawa had an idea on who stole his girl in the first place from this conversation. He gulps and turns his attention back to the paper below him, trying to contain his fear from Iwaizumi. Oddly enough he can feel the man’s intimidating aura already trying to kill him.

“Shiiit.” Hanamaki laughs, but he quickly quiets down when Oikawa picks up his chin to glare at Hanamaki.

Oikawa gets his popularity from praising rumors like the one Hanamaki had asked him about, he gets his popularity from the fact that no one knows the truth, and of course from his face as well. He gets it from being reliable and being attractive, but right now, he’ll gain it from being a liar, and that’s not something Oikawa wants to be known as.

Sure, he was graduating in two months, but everything can backfire in just two days. Just like that kid who caught Oikawa red handed, and is now threatening him to take the students heat from teachers so that it won’t be exposed to anyone else in the school. So he shuts his mouth, and sure that only makes him look guilty, but he wasn’t saying anything, so they’re assuming themselves.

They stay silent for the hour comes. Oikawa still writing, he had finished it a few minutes ago, although after reconsidering what he had said, he thought it would be better if he changed up a few minutes. When Oikawa had looked up from his assignments, he realized that no one else had started their own.

Hanamaki was tapping his fingers on the table, but if you were to hear closely, you could see that he was making different patterns with his taps, and Matsukawa looked at his finger nails picking at them. He glances to the left, wondering what Iwaizumi was doing, but the male was still sleeping.

Out of all the things the four of them were doing, Iwaizumi was the only one breaking the rules. But for all he knew, Iwaizumi was awake this entire time. He gulps as he looks over at Hanamaki who was stretching his body on the chair, which was still on its back legs and caused Hanamaki to fall back quickly; knocking the back of his skull with Iwaizumi’s table, causing a loud noise to echo, plus with the chair hitting the floor and Hanamaki’s long legs kicking his own table.

Iwaizumi is woken up from his nap, standing up right he quickly takes in the situation and doesn’t jump into conclusions. He leans forward and sees Hanamaki groaning but he smiled up at Iwaizumi, signaling he was okay. The boy in the brown hoodie relaxed, but he didn’t move around his table to help Hanamaki up, but before he could sit down the supervisor came in, glaring down at Iwaizumi.

“Iwaizumi Hajime! Get the fuck over here now!”

“I didn’t,” he pauses, knowing that he wasn’t going to be heard out, he’s used to the mannerisms they all treat him in. He shuts his mouth shut and walks over to the man who meets him half way. He crosses his arms, pouting he looks down at the ground, Hanamaki getting up using the desk to help him as he peeks over at Iwaizumi.

He coughs, “He didn’t,” he starts, but the supervisor yells at Hanamaki to sit his ass back down, and he does just that. He was never yelled out with that much…fear in a man’s voice. So he pulls up his chair, and sits right on it. Straight back and everything looking at the two in front, just like the other two at the opposite tables.

The supervisor sees that Hanamaki has been seated; he even relaxes at the sight of him being okay. He then diverts his attention back to the shorter boy in front of him, whispering harshly, trying his best to keep the conversation between the two of them, but as his anger swells, everyone picks up at the sound.

“Do you want to spend the rest of your life in jail?” he waits for an actual answer, and Iwaizumi only bites his lower lip. His grip tightens at it sleeve, trying his best to not yell back, or at least that’s what the supervisor believes. And he’s grateful for Iwaizumi to having the self-control.

“You keep hurting people to the point that will kill them is unaccusable, you’re lucky he was your coach, you’re fucking lucky, you know that right? That it wasn’t anyone else; otherwise you’ve been locked up for a long time.” When Iwaizumi doesn’t react, or respond to anything the supervisor was getting a little antsy.

“Don’t you care?” he leans in closer, pushing Iwaizumi’s shoulder to get some kind of reaction, “Don’t you care that you’re here, and not in prison? Do you care that we allowed you back so easily?” He starts to push Iwaizumi’s shoulder a bit harsher, and Iwaizumi was easily shown to be getting annoyed.

“Hey, stop it already! Leave him alone, it wasn’t his fault, Pinky fell on his own!” Matsukawa stood up from his chair, looking at Hanamaki for backup. Quickly, Hanamaki gather up to his feet, nodding his head despite the pain at the back.

“He’s telling the truth, I got bored and pushed myself off my chair, banged my head and everything, he was only trying to check if I was okay.”

Oikawa stands up, “Sir, they’re all telling the truth, I saw everything myself. Hanamaki seriously fell on his own.” He gulps, waiting for the man to let go of Iwaizumi, three seconds go by and it’s so tense that Oikawa feels like his pen is about to break between his fingers.

But the supervisor puckers in his lips, nodding his head and pushes Iwaizumi backward, “Go back to your seat.”

Iwaizumi stands still though, while the supervisor turns around, heading back to his office without another word, he actually shut the door behind him, not leaving it open as he had promised before. Iwaizumi looks around him, and sees a white mug, left there most likely by the librarian. He picks it up by the cup, ignoring the handle; no one dares moves thinking that he was going to throw it.

Iwaizumi throws the mug up and down, back to the palm of his hand. He breathes in and out, and then drops it back where it was originally, letting the mug survive another day.

Everyone watches Iwaizumi go back to his seat, slumping on it as he looks forward, Hanamaki jolts at the glare, but he soon recognizes that it wasn’t directed towards him. He gulps, swallowing whatever fear he has and sits back down on his chair, but he continues to face Iwaizumi, never looking elsewhere.

Neither Matsukawa nor Oikawa sit, they prefer to stand, as if they were waiting for the fool to reach his hand into the cage of a wild animal, ready to do anything to save both from punishment.

“You almost killed someone?” Oikawa groans and Matsukawa frowns while pinching his bridge of his nose at Hanamaki’s idiotic question, Oikawa even goes as far as telling the boy something of his own thoughts.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You don’t ask people that!”

Hanamaki ignores him, Iwaizumi’s cold stare is now upon him, and he patiently waits for an answer, an answer that can change Hanamaki’s life forever if answered correctly, he can see it now, telling stories to his grandkids about how he knew a man who tried to murder someone.

“Fuck off,” was Iwaizumi’s only answer and Hanamaki automatically burst into tears. He laughs loudly, but a second later a hand is slapped on his mouth. He looks at the owner of the hand, and belonging to the man in all black.

“Are you insane? Please tell me you’re insane, it would explain everything really.” He growls, but as soon as Hanamaki licks Matsukawa hand, the male pulls away, but not before slapping his hand all over Hanamaki’s face, drying his hand of the saliva, not once feeling disgusted as he wipes the rest all over Pinky’s hair.

“There’s a difference between insanity and being brave.” Hanamaki clarifies, not at all annoyed with his hair being ravaged as it was, but Matsukawa shakes his head, “Hm, nope. Being brave and insane are basically the same thing.” He smirks down at him, toying with his head at this point. “Does it hurt?”

Hanamaki shakes his head, humming even as he lets Matsukawa dizzy him up, even closing his eyes so he wouldn’t randomly puke on Iwaizumi’s desk.

They got quiet again, and this time around Oikawa was sure he was finished after another hour. Iwaizumi hadn’t slept again, his elbows on the table, and only one hand carried his head as he looked forward, and only forward. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were actually a lot calmer with one another than from the start, and Oikawa couldn’t help but smile at the realization that Hanamaki had moved away his interest from Iwaizumi to Matsukawa.

“So, your name is Issei huh?” Oikawa questions, finally being the first to break the silence that had went between all four of them, breaking the rule of no talking, “As in the English word or the one from the Japanese language?”

Half lidded eyes turn towards Oikawa; he hears the male’s question and turns away, reaching for his blank piece of paper. He ignores the pen, and reaches in his backpack to take out a large black marker. Uncapping the tool, he writes his name down on the piece of paper.

**一静**

Capping it again, he picks up the paper, ponders and then looks over to Oikawa, “Looks Japanese to me.”

Hanamaki laughs, clutching to his sides feigning pain, and Iwaizumi kicks his seat slightly as it was on all fours, telling him to shut the fuck up. He nods his head, looking back at Oikawa who looked a bit troubled, “He’s just showing off his nerd Issei.” He explains, waiting for the conversation to go on.

Oikawa drops his head in defeat, but he pesters Matsukawa to keep explaining his name, trying to cover up the fact that he was indeed trying to show off his nerd, and deeply regrets it. Wondering why he even bothered with these people, but then he glances at Iwaizumi, the supervisor did say he was in class five, maybe he read it wrong but then Oikawa realized he was judging people by their appearance and actions.

Shaking his head mentally, he looks back at Matsukawa who points at the first kanji on his paper. “This one is read as one,” he then moves on to the next kanji, “and this one is named as star. One star, Issei.”

“The first kanji can also be read as Hajime when it’s left alone.” Iwaizumi voice picked up, and everyone turns their attention to him, Oikawa then perks up at the name, smiling as he nods his head.

“That’s true; your name is Hajime right? Wow you guys have something in common!” Looking back at Matsukawa with a smile, the tall male nods his head in appreciation.

“That’s pretty cool though Iwaizumi, you’re name being that I mean.” Matsukawa slides in his finger in midair in a horizontal way, signaling that Iwaizumi had a simple name, yet had a huge significance. The male grunts, nodding his head as thanks.

Hanamaki asks for the marker from Matsukawa, using his own piece of paper he writes his own first name. Matsukawa and Oikawa get up from their seats, standing and hovering over Hanamaki as he caps the marker and turns his torso to a degree so he can show it to show everyone behind him, Iwaizumi sitting in the middle, while Oikawa on Iwaizumi’s left up front, and Matsukawa on his right up front.

**貴大**

“It mean’s prosperous!”

“Meaning?” Matsukawa frowns at the unfamiliar word.

“Bring wealth and success, but if you separate the two, you get valuable and big.” Oikawa points out, looking at the kanji before him before nodding his head; sure of himself that what he said was correct. Matsukawa nodded his head as well in understanding.

“Your turn Iwaizumi.” Hanamaki throws the marker towards him; Iwaizumi catches it quickly and does as he’s told, only draws a line and shows it Hanamaki.

**一**

“I already did dumbass.”

Hanamaki nods his head, “Oh, that’s right! Cool, cool.” He smiles but it brings a smirk to Iwaizumi’s own lips, wanting to laugh at Hanamaki’s charismatic attitude.

The marker is then passed to Oikawa, and the male looks down at the person passing it to him. He takes the marker slowly, but his eyes never break from Iwaizumi’s own, because Oikawa realizes then that Iwaizumi has a little shine in his eyes that he didn’t have previously. “Thanks!”

Oikawa looks down and sees that he hasn’t had any paper to write on, but when Iwaizumi slides his own paper towards Oikawa, the male smiles thanking him once more, since Iwaizumi’s first name didn’t take much room, he was freely able to write it where he wanted to.

徹

He leaves the paper on the table for everyone to look over and see. “Whoa!” Hanamaki straightens up, “You’re name is one kanji too huh? That’s pretty cool.”

“Sea?” Matsukawa mummers, but Iwaizumi shakes his head.

“Persistent, penetrating.”

Oikawa nods his head, telling Iwaizumi he was right about it as well. Glad that someone was able to read it write for the first time in years.

It was a small ice breaker, but with Hanamaki there they all start to get comfortable with one another, and soon fire sparks in everyone’s heart.

They all stay where they are; the paper was pushed away to the corner of Iwaizumi’s table, forgotten. Sitting on Iwaizumi’s table, Matsukawa and Oikawa had stayed in their new spots, while Hanamaki simply turned over, straddling the chair backwards so that he would face forward, and the one who didn’t move at all was Iwaizumi looking ahead as usual.

Conversation between the four go nonstop, to the point that they all decide to move to a different spot where they all could sit comfortably in the library once Matsukawa played with the locks at the entrance, causing the doors to lock from the inside, hoping the slamming the supervisor might do if he comes at any time would give them time to all come back to their seats and act as if normal.

As Oikawa leans against a pillar, he eyes a certain book when Matsukawa talks about something that happened to him not to long ago. Iwaizumi catches him when Matsukawa starts to ask a question, and Oikawa is the only one left with no answer.

“Shittykawa.” The nickname leaves Iwaizumi’s lips, and Oikawa hears the profanity mixed with his name, turning to look over at Iwaizumi who still had that shine in his eyes; there was even a little devious smile.

“What?” he asked, looking as if he wasn’t zoning out just then.

“What’s in your mind?” Hanamaki, sitting by Matsukawa leaning against the metal railing on the second floor of the library, asked. He leans forward as he smirks; Matsukawa too looks a bit curious. “Are you thinking about something nasty? There’s that smile on your face, like your fantasizing something.”

“No!” Oikawa blushes, slapping Hanamaki’s accusing finger away from him. “It’s just.” His eyes zoom around, and he isn’t sure where he could look to or what to say to cover him up from what he was thinking about, but Iwaizumi starts to stand up, even heading towards the fantasy genre of a small display. He grabs the upmost book and brings it back, throwing it on Oikawa’s lap.

“Ya like it?”

Oikawa picks up the book, carefully holding the book. Its binder was a bit worn, meaning people have checked the book out plenty of times. He gulps as he reads the title, _Japanese Conspiracy Theories._ “No,” he lies, “It’s just that this book shouldn’t be in the fantasy genre, their conspiracy theories, if anything it should be in thriller perhaps.” He hesitates at the genre, trying his best to save himself.

But Iwaizumi only laughs, “Don’t lie, that wasn’t even the book you were looking at.” He points up at the display case, “You were looking at the alien one huh?”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa silently watch the two go at it, Iwaizumi picking at Oikawa and watching the man actually laugh for the first time in the five hours they’ve been here. Oikawa was becoming flustered and kept moving around robotic like, not sure how to act.

“Then why would you give me this one?”

“Wanted to see what kind of lie you would come up with.” Iwaizumi leans back against his own pillar, smiling with triumph.

“So you like alien stuff huh?” Hanamaki probes and Matsukawa nods his head, quite interested with the topic. “That’s pretty cool though, like do you know when they’re coming over and gonna eat all of us?” Hanamaki scoots closer to Oikawa, his pink bomber jacket hanging on the railing since it was getting pretty warm for him.

“Haha, make fun of me all you want.” Oikawa mumbles frustrated that they’ve all discovered his little secret. He starts to strategize though, about how he could go about this, all he needed to do was calm down and act like it wasn’t at all that interesting. He could play it off and they’ll move on.

“Nah man,” Matsukawa shakes his head, “we all got our secret pleasures, some not so secret as others though.” He shrugs his shoulders, “You don’t have to fret that we know or anything, besides look at Pinky, he genuinely looks curious.”

Oikawa looks over at his side, and true to Matsukawa’s word, Hanamaki nods his head, agreeing with Matsukawa about the fact that he was curious in all of this. Oikawa puckered his lips out slightly; just looking at Hanamaki, Oikawa wants to just share everything about anything.

“Well, I mean, there’s some things that are really interesting.” He scratches the back of his head, and Hanamaki prompts him to continue. Oikawa shyly looks at Iwaizumi, head bowed a bit, and eye wide with nervousness. Iwaizumi gives him an encouraging nod, and Oikawa looks back at Hanamaki with new determination, “Well, you see in America they have this book, called the Project Blue Book, and well some people play it of as UFO’s,” he says in English, and it only fuels him more, “meaning that they’re just aircrafts flying around, normal ones from different countries, even ones that were mistakenly missed in the United States.”

But there’s been a termination order, and it destroyed everything that was recorded in the Project Blue Book.” Oikawa moves his arms around, even getting up a bit to sit as if he was facing everyone and not just Iwaizumi. He gulps, licking his lips to continue on. “They say that most recordings were of phenomenal sightings, but they wrote it off as natural phenomenal, meaning just stars and clouds.”

“How can they mistake clouds for UFO’s?” Matsukawa repeats the word, and actually proud of himself for saying the letters fluently.

Oikawa snaps his fingers at Matsukawa, “Exactly, how could they? The U.S is rather amazing when it comes to technology especially when it comes to area 51.”

“Area 51?” Hanamaki says it in English, coping Oikawa. It feels weird on his lips, but he likes it and says it again, this time as if it was a statement, “Area 51.”

Oikawa smiles and he nods his head, “Yeah, and well, like it just there’s so much information that the U.S has, and they won’t share it to the public no less to a foreign country, and it frustrates me to no end that I won’t be able to see or learn from it at all!” he pouts as he sits back on to his original position, and Matsukawa whistles.

“Man, that’s amazing and raises a lot of questions though; I wonder how American’s do it. Being so clueless and all, but they got that determination to keep looking out there ya know? Like even all the way to space,” he bites his lower lip, “all we got here is just mutated animals and what not.” Everyone but one agrees with Matsukawa with the fact that Japan wasn’t all the quiet great with creatures origin stories.

“Godzilla is real.”

The nodding of the heads all stop, Oikawa looks over at Iwaizumi who had a resolved face. “What?” he squeaks out.

“Godzilla,” he repeats, looking at Oikawa straight in the eye, “he’s real.” Oikawa had sworn that second there was a green shining that goes across Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“Why do you think that?” Hanamaki frowns, not all sure if Godzilla was real even when his entire life he grew up with posters all over the streets about Godzilla movies, merchandise, and what not, but with just one speech from Oikawa, he knew for a fact aliens were real.

“Because who would come up with something like that unless they saw it somewhere? And don’t say the fucking mistakenly saw a reptile as it. Godzilla is fucking huge; he can’t be mistakenly taken as a komodo dragon.” Iwaizumi frowns at Hanamaki who was totally going to say that, but now that Iwaizumi shuts him down, he closed his mouth.

“Maybe they had a dream.” Matsukawa pushes, but Iwaizumi shakes his head.

“If you saw it in your dream, ya had to see it in real life. That’s science, so take it up with them.”

Oikawa stays silent, looking at how determined Iwaizumi with the fact that Godzilla was real, he even leaves his lips a bit parted from one another, truly admiring Iwaizumi that he was so open at a childish thought, not afraid to be criticize or taunted for something like that.

“People who actually disses Godzilla, I punch in the face.” He even admits, but Hanamaki shakes his head, not believing Iwaizumi, but the man only brings his fist up, asking if Hanamaki wants a punch in the face just like all the others.

“What do people say when you’re so committed to the fact?” Matsukawa pushes the question Oikawa had wanted to ask, but Iwaizumi only shrugs his shoulders, saying as if he really didn’t know what others had said behind his back. They then continue to move on to a different topic, but as it dies down, Hanamaki pops right next to Matsukawa again.

“How did you get your name though Issei?” Hanamaki asked once the conversation had died again, and to give someone more time to think up a new topic.

“All at once, first generation, one star, it has a lot of sayings but in the end, it’s because of the fact I was the first born in my family, and when I mean first, I mean first. I don’t have any cousins older than me and I don’t have any at the same age as me. I’m the oldest by three years.” He lifts up three fingers, and everyone was pretty surprised with that fact.

“No wonder you tolerate me so much!” Hanamaki laughs, but it causes Matsukawa to frown, not quite sure what he had meant. And by no means was he going to leave it as if it never happened, pushing himself up right a bit he asked Hanamaki.

“What do you mean by that?”

Hanamaki’s smile dies down, but he doesn’t drop it like usual people would. Instead, he looks up everyone and breathes out heavily. “Well, in all honestly can I call you guys my friends?” he says, a bit hesitant, and for a second he wants to look away.

“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi, the man of few words speaks up, figuring there was more to this question.

“Well, I mean, what happens when this is all over? Ya know? What happens back in Monday, when we all go back to school, are we all going to be friends?”

Oikawa flinches at the question, looking away from Hanamaki quickly, to avoid any type of eye contact. “We’re from all different groups, is that you mean?” He says in a whisper but everyone hears it since there was no sound distracting them but the small hum from the air conditioner.

Hanamaki nods his head, and Oikawa looks up at Iwaizumi who looks down at his own lap. He bites his lower as he tries to come up with an answer. Oikawa then looks back to Hanamaki, gulping he asked, “Honest. Do you want the honest answer?” he blinks, hesitant and scared that Hanamaki will shake his head.

But at that second, Hanamaki already realized what the male’s answer was going to be. But he had some hope for the male, and nods anyways.

“No.”

“You fucking bastard.” Iwaizumi looks up at Oikawa as soon as he asked Hanamaki the question. He scoffs at the pathetic answer and reason Oikawa was going to come up way before it left his lips.

“Why? Because I’m telling the truth?” He accusingly looks at Iwaizumi, “How about you Iwaizumi? Mr. Athlete? Mr. All Star? What about you?”

Iwaizumi ignores Oikawa’s questions and looks at Hanamaki sympathetically “I’ll still be your friend Hanamaki.” Hanamaki looks up at him, smiling softly at the sour tension that was once so calm.

“No you wouldn’t, don’t fucking lie Iwaizumi. He’s going to come up to you and say hi, chitchat for a bit and when he leaves, what are you and your athlete friends going to do? You’re going to talk behind his back, and spread rumors about him.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Iwaizumi quickly defends himself.

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“Because that’s fucked up, and I don’t fucking care what my friends will think about, besides what the fuck do you know about my friends, that we’re all fucking athletes? For your information Shittykawa, I’m not as popular as you think, and even if I was I would punch anyone in the face for making fun of Hanamaki.”

Oikawa clenches his teeth, the corners of his eyes look as though they were reddening up and his eyes do start to turn to get glossy.

“I’m not like you Oikawa; I’m nowhere near like you. I don’t pretend to fit in, I don’t lie so my friends can like me, and I don’t fucking pretend nothing is wrong back home, and play little princess at school as if it were my fucking castle, and laugh like it’s okay!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Oikawa screams back, kicking Iwaizumi’s leg, he crosses his arms and looks away from the male, trying his best to calm down, and think up his own reasons, to make them understand that it isn’t like what they think. “You just don’t understand,” his voice cracks, and Matsukawa carefully looks at him, scared that he’ll end up crying for being constantly accused.

Because in a way the dark haired male could understand where Oikawa was coming from, not that he was in the same situation. But Oikawa’s entire life was just filled with missing holes that was never filled up.

“I have to play the part of a smart kid, I have to keep my grades up or else my mother would kill me, but at the same time I need to have friends too! I have to have people like me too! Because,” he chokes, “because at home no one does, my older brother abandoned me to fend for myself with two parents who don’t even love me.”

Hanamaki lifts up his head, listening to Oikawa carefully, “One always, constantly nagging me to get good grades and if I don’t then I won’t ever be able to leave the house like my brother did, stripped from freedom. I’ll be trapped in eternal hell where my parents are constantly screaming at one another. The other, always looking at every chance to pick a fight with my mother, using me as bait as much as possible, I don’t think my father and I had ever had a decent conversation.”

He throws money at me, just so he won’t have to pay any bills, he rather throw his money away at stupid things than help with the house. Just this morning, he gave me sixty thousand yen to convince the supervisor to let me go scotch free! Sixty fucking thousand yen to convince the supervisor to let me go for something I have to do!” he stops, biting his lower lip, “you just don’t understand what it’s like to be treated as an excuse, to be so fucking lonely.”

“I don’t understand?” Hanamaki speaks up, looking up at Oikawa, “You know, I always wondered why we were so different Oikawa, we have the money,” Hanamaki pulls out his wallet, pulling out different colored bills and throwing them in the air, “We follow what’s new, trends I mean. But I guess I figured out why were so different.” He sits up straighter and looks at Oikawa, “You’re fake; you’re all porcelain and paint. While I’m all real.”

He points to Iwaizumi, but Oikawa doesn’t take his eyes off Hanamaki, “He’s right, it doesn’t fucking matter what other people think of you, as long as your you, that’s okay, as long as you’re happy with what you are that’s okay.” Hanamaki starts to tear up, “Fuck, do you know why I’m here today?”

Oikawa holds in his lips tight, he shakes his head as his vision blurs at the sight of Hanamaki. “All my life I wanted to be like you, happy, chirpy, always with pals, and always sleeping with the gals. But shit, you’re just a big fat phony. You’re lonely?” he covers his eyes with his arm, trying to keep in the tears.

“Then what the fuck am I Oikawa? I can’t remember my own mother’s face, yet we lived in the same fucking house for eighteen years, I swear to you Oikawa, if you line up twelve strangers up, and asked me which one was my mother, I wouldn’t even fucking know. I’ve never spoken to my father with a smile on my face. I have no memories what so ever of any fucking time I’ve spent with my parents. It was either the maid, or the butler. I didn’t even have a fucking nanny for crying out loud! It was just new maid every month, fired, hired, fired, hired. I had to move fucking schools each year because my father’s job kept jumping around, and my mom wanted to go with.”

Birthdays were always spent a lone with a card saying happy birthday, a few thousand dollars, as if it would heal anything up. Never had I had a parent teacher conference, never have been invited to friend’s parties, never, I never had anyone to rely on! And it gets fucking lonely Oikawa, now let me ask you again, do you know why I’m here?”

Oikawa bites his lower lips; everyone looks at him, waiting for him to answer. “Because you’re lonely?” he says, he phrases it as a question but he knows it’s the truth.

“Do you know how pathetic that sounds Oikawa?” Hanamaki asked, “I told my dad I had detention this Saturday yesterday, just so I can fucking talk to him, I purposely told my driver to go home on Saturday and ignore any calls from my father, just so he can take me to school, so he can talk to me along the way.” Hanamaki looks at down, noticing his missing jacket he had taken off a while ago.

“I wear pink, yellow, and all the brightest colors to catch their attention. I actually managed it today, pink, pink caught my dad’s attention.” He laughs sourly, but then he looks back up at Oikawa, “Do you guys wanna know what’s the craziest thing I did, to get their attention?” he leans away from Oikawa, looking up at the ceiling of the library.

No one says a thing, waiting for Hanamaki to come back to them with an answer. “I used to have a gun under my bed.” He admits, but he doesn’t add any other words to it.

“Why did you have a gun Hanamaki?” Iwaizumi was quick to ask, his body stiffened, and Matsukawa turns his entire torso towards Hanamaki who smiled dejectedly.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, I didn’t do anything.”

“Answer the question Hanamaki.” Iwaizumi doesn’t let it go, he even leans forward, ready to get up and shake Hanamaki for the answer even.

“It doesn’t matter!”

“You brought it up Takahiro.” Matsukawa’s voice sparks up, finally having the courage to say something.

The entire library falls silent once more, no one says a thing as Hanamaki tries to muffle his tears, and it breaks Oikawa more than he could have imagined.

“I tried to kill myself,” he confesses, and Oikawa already has tears streaming down his face, “I thought if I survived it then maybe they’ll look at me more, that maybe if I died, I wouldn’t have to be so lonely anymore.”

Silence filled the air as they all take in what Hanamaki had just confessed. Matsukawa was in utter disbelief, watching Hanamaki closely, his half-lidded eyes widen in a way no one has seen before. His mouth agape, watching Hanamaki as the male trembles before him, clutching on to his own body for security.

Iwaizumi has a troubled look on his face, looking away from the tall male instead of watching him quiver. Iwaizumi wasn’t as cold and stone as soon people portrayed him to be. Just watching Hanamaki of all four them break before them all was rather disturbing to see in his opinion. Hanamaki, out of all of them was the only one who looked calm and happy that he was pulled into detention.

But as he explained himself on why he was there in the first place, it made Iwaizumi want to join in the tear fest. In his defensive, but it wasn’t at all a secret, Iwaizumi was a softie when it came to sensitive topics. He would cry if he felt a tug in his heart strings, and Hanamaki had happened to pull all of them in a short amount of time.

“Please tell me that isn’t true.” Oikawa shakes his head, he mummers it, clenching on to the cloth of his beige pants. “Please Hanamaki! Please, because for the hours we’ve known each other, you don’t, you don’t look like someone who was hurting!” Oikawa looks up from his lap, watching Hanamaki through blur visions. “I can’t ever imagine you putting a gun to your head, that’s impossible! You’re so much more, you can’t have those thoughts! I won’t allow it!”

It was so scary to finally understand the concept about the fact that so many people have concealed their feelings. That they push them aside in order to stitch a smile on their face, but Hanamaki was different. He cherished each moment as if it were his last. He grabs on to each opportunity to jester about.

As Oikawa pleaded to Hanamaki, asking to be told it was just a lie, rethinking of the few stories they shared. Hanamaki had laughed at every joke, be it that was one or not. It didn’t matter to Hanamaki, as long as it had some comedic value, he laughed. He always had a jump in his steps, always dancing at random moments and skipped along whenever they moved about.

He had that bounce in his steps and that simple fluidity to his sharp words. He had comebacks after comebacks, filled with teasing pokes and dabs. He rhymes and exaggerates, coming up the most scandalous scenarios that most likely would never happen. He was humorous even in the dark sense, and he fitted so well with all three of them.

He was a perfect piece to Matsukawa’s quiet demeanor, even he was able to rise him up a bit and encourage him to joke a long with him, and to Oikawa’s deepest regret, Matsukawa was just as good at it as Hanamaki. His relations with Iwaizumi were so daring, not at all caring if he crossed a line in Iwaizumi’s large boundary space.

Compared to Oikawa, Hanamaki wasn’t so different. The only real difference relied on the fact that Oikawa had a fake personality, molded into someone everyone would enjoy, where all his friends would appreciate his charming attitude, and where his popularity would grow more and more.

While Hanamaki had his personality, kept it as is and wasn’t afraid of showing the world who he was. And it opened Oikawa’s eyes, everyone’s eyes for that matter that how disgusting people truly were to ignore someone like Hanamaki simply because he didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.

Because Hanamaki never had anyone to entertain him, no one to give him attention, the boy was filled with thousands of stories locked away in Hanamaki’s head. There was a crazy amount of words he wanted to spill and share with anyone. Yet not one person, not one human being wanted to befriend Hanamaki until now.

Hanamaki is so perfect, so real, nowhere near tainted by lies and secrets, yet here he was the only one who actually thought of ending his life.

At the end of Oikawa’s pleads, Hanamaki lays his hand on top of his shoulder. “I’m not dead.” He reassures Oikawa, and before Oikawa could ask for more than just that, Hanamaki continues on, “I wasn’t able to do it,” he slides his hand off Oikawa, leaning a bit back, straightening his back with a small slouch. “I wimped out because I was scared, but I’m glad that I was, I so happy that I was terrified of dying, because now,” he sobs, covering his eyes, “now I get to be with you guys, I get to share this day with all of you. I’ve actually never been so happy before.” He laughs distressingly

There’s a tug at the back of Hanamaki’s collared shirt, pulling him back Matsukawa holds him with his right arm, plastering the boy to side with a large grin on his face, looking out at the wall they both faced, “This isn’t going to be the only time we have together Pinky, there’s going to be moments just this for now on.” He promises, tightening his old so that Hanamaki’s was pushed to his chest, his hair mushed around by Matsukawa’s long fingers.

Hanamaki looks up at Matsukawa who doesn’t look back at him, but that smile remains as it is. Hanamaki turns towards Iwaizumi and Oikawa, both giving him a confident nod, signaling that they won’t leave him no matter the case.

And that only wants to break Hanamaki more, glad that everyone was giving up on who they thought they were, to being their selves truly, sticking together, no longer needed those who they knew, those who will never accept their real personalities.

Iwaizumi breaks the calm tension, breaking into laughter he couldn’t hold in. Not that he found the situation at all funny, but now that two of the four and shared their troubles back home; he didn’t look at all look out of place.

“What about you Iwaizumi? Do you have any family problems?” Hanamaki relaxes by Matsukawa’s side, curling up beside him comfortably. Oikawa looks away from the intimate view, putting his attention back to Iwaizumi who pouts, pondering in his thoughts.

As everyone waits for an answer, Iwaizumi really thinks if he really wants to share or not. Not that he was forced to, but if Hanamaki and Oikawa looked just as relaxed as they did now, so much more than before than he was shorty convinced to say something to lift the burden of his tongue just this once.

“My family is nothing but screw ups. Or at least that’s what my dad says,” he doesn’t look at anyone, too scared to face their way and see something he didn’t want to see. Scared that they would start to think that Iwaizumi is just some wimp who can’t handle certain circumstances, but everyone’s problems shouldn’t be compared to others. They’re all big in their own ways.

“Since my mom and dad got together, it’s always been misfortunes for them. Or at least that’s what my dad says, says I was a mistake too, mom wasn’t supposed to get pregnant. That I was doom to be a fuck up too, mom passed away and boom, there’s another fuck up. My fault too, if I wasn’t born than maybe she would still be here today. I was a careless kid, always falling of trees and getting lost, dad thinks I was a fuck up again, in every way possible.”

He clenches his fist, noticing the small little scars that took over his fingers. “But when I got that scholarship, that one for baseball,” Iwaizumi smiled, a large genuine smile on his lips took everyone’s breathe away, “He was so proud of me,” he chokes in his words, trying his best to cover it up by mimicking his father, “Outta boy! That’s my blood! That’s Hajime! You. Are. Number One!”

He laughed at himself sourly, “And then I got that academic scholarship, and he even, I never knew what it was like, but the love in his eyes, I knew, I knew that he really did love me.” He bites his lower lip, eyes going glossy all over again. “You’re mama would’ve been proud, she’s smiling on this day Hajime, look at the sky, not one cloud to cover up your mama’s smile. You’ll get out of this dump Hajime, you’ll be out of here and making something of yourself, I’m so proud of you Hajime, I’m so fucking proud.”

It was like things were finally looking up for me. That it was going to turn around, and I admit, I admit it that my dad has anger problems that have been passed down to me, but I was so good. I was so good at controlling my impulsive actions.” He covers his eyes, feeling a bit overwhelmed, “But I had to go fuck it up again, fuck!” He screams, kicking his foot, stomping it on the floor. “Both my scholarships were taken away from me, after they saw how I almost, shit, I just had to go and make everything worse. My old man won’t let me hear the end of it either.”

“You weren’t supposed to end up like us Hajime, you weren’t supposed to fuck this up! You’re so much better than this! What the fuck happened? What the fuck happened!” Iwaizumi covers his eyes with just one hand, his thumb by his right eye, while the rest of his fingers pointed left, a visor to cover his eyes. Oikawa can see a small stream of tears slide silent off Iwaizumi’s cheek. “I’m not even allowed to go home today, shit;”

“I haven’t had a decent good night sleep since Thursday night. I’m constantly getting kicked out, and I’m constantly fucking up shit where I go.” It explained why he was wearing his pants then, Oikawa thinks, and looking at his backpack the rest of his uniform was probably in his bag instead of actual school supplies.

“Well in a way, all of you guys are pretty fucked up.” Matsukawa laughs, looking down at his own lap. And once he starts to laugh, it escalates to a louder booming noise. Iwaizumi frowns, perking up an eyebrow taking a small peek at Matsukawa who was looking like he was going insane.

Oikawa chuckles, finding his laughter contiguous even when there were tears ready to fall at the corner of his eyes. Hanamaki looks concerned, but his smile breaks and Iwaizumi’s own laughter starts to fill in the fits of laughter. “Well what about you Matsukawa, why aren’t you fucked up?”

“I’m fucking poor, and that’s just about it of my sad life. Wake up, and I’m hungry? Well tough luck, there isn’t anything to snack on, and if there was, I would have to part it into four parts. Three if my mom doesn’t want the fourth, gotta feed my little bros. They need to grow and shit.”

Hanamaki laughs, “You did enough growing and shit Matsukawa.”

“Got money to buy myself lunch? I save it instead of actually spending it, and soon I gather up enough to buy something decent for all of us to eat. Dad is never home, I don’t mean he’s a bad guy or anything, real decent and nice. It’s just his work place is way too far, and it’s the only place that gives him enough money to support us. We could go follow him and everything but the place he works at, that town is shitty, and he has hopes for us. For me too.” He looks over at Iwaizumi trying to make a connection.

“But it’s hard you know, don’t tell the teachers, but I have a job because dad’s money isn’t cutting it, and we don’t want him to worry. Or well, I don’t. Mom works too, but they give her the least respect in the entire world, I forced her to quit. So I’m in school during the morning til the end, and at my job at a convince store, all the way to three in the morning.” He explains his routine, and why he was so exhausted all the time.

“But nothing bad happens, there’s no fights there’s nothing I’m worried about, ‘cept the fact I’m a complete idiot, can’t do any English, Japanese or artsy stuff, but I excel in math. Nothing else, science sucks.” He confesses, laughing at himself again. “I mean look at me, I had these shoes since my first year in this school! And I don’t get rides, or afford a bus pass since it’s included in the school fees, so I skateboard here since bikes suck too.”

I wear black all the time because you can never see the left over stains. My pants are pretty old too, but at least I’m skinny enough to fit in them every year, luckily for me I was already this tall in my first year.” He picks at the side of his shirt, “There are small holes around here too, and it’s stretched out here because my little brothers cling on to me too much, little gorillas.” He smiles at the thought of all three of them. “And there all triplets, just our luck huh?” he looks up at Oikawa who smiles back softly, nodding his head.

“Yeah, but I love those annoyances. A lot of work, but I love em.” He nods his head as well, but before he stops talking, he looks back up at all of them, minus Hanamaki who was still at his side, now clinging on to his torso. “I’m not dirty! Hygiene is my number one thing. I fucking hate being dirty, sweaty, greasy, fucking hate it. I may look like it, and these stains may be stains, but they’re fucking clean flower scented stains.”

All three of them laugh, enjoying Matsukawa’s monologue of his life, “My family isn’t the best, not even second, shit not even third, but they’re trying their best ya know? I’m not a bad kid, pretty normal ya know?”

“I am kinda spoiled,” Hanamaki confesses, pouting.

“I am actually impulsive.” Iwaizumi tags along, nodding his head at his self-analysis.

The three then wait for Oikawa to say something, but the pretty boy shrugs his shoulders, jokingly saying, “I’m pretty perfect.” Everyone bursts into laughter, Iwaizumi calls him a bastard but playfully, no bite in the word what so ever. But the male calms them down, “No, No, but really, I’m more than a pretty face, I’m the biggest nerd slash geek, slash anything in between.” He pauses, but before he concludes his confession he looks at Iwaizumi, “I am pretty fake.”

Iwaizumi strikes out a pout, nodding his head “You’re pretty alright.” Iwaizumi agrees, and Hanamaki whistles as Oikawa blushes at the compliment.

Hanamaki then jumps off Matsukawa, pulling his body up from the ground and heading towards the hallway. “There’s a sound room here.” He tells them all, boosting them to follow him in. Iwaizumi drops his hands into his hoodies pocket, standing without any trouble of getting up. Matsukawa grabs on the rail behind him to pull himself up, and Oikawa pushes his hands on the ground, following Hanamaki.

Hanamaki slips in the open door, turning the lights on and looking over at the school laptop. He types a few things in, while Iwaizumi leans on a large speaker. Matsukawa looks at everything there was to offer in the room, finding that he never really been in the library to know it enough that they had a sound room.

Oikawa, who was actually looking at the different old records there was to offer, knew the place very well. He and his friends, or well, his classmates would hang out here when the weather was too cold to hang outside.

Iwaizumi was about to open his mouth to ask what Hanamaki was going to do, but his answer comes just as quick. The speaker behind him, at max volume scares the feeling shit out of Iwaizumi, that the boy almost, almost, Iwaizumi wants everyone to know, that he _almost_ punched the stereo, and was so fucking glad he didn’t.

The loud scream of the song dies down, falling into a rhythm beat but the song picks up in its singing again, slow and soft at first, but then English starts blasting at them. Hanamaki screams, throwing his hands in the air and singing along.

“Fuck, I love Oldcodex!” Iwaizumi laughs as he looks over at Hanamaki dancing away to the music, Oikawa laughs as well, watching the male, and moving his own body a bit to join into the dancing.

All four of them start to spread around in the library, letting the music go random after rage on plays. Iwaizumi finds himself back where they all were all seated, be playing air guitar, throwing his entire head around as he leans forward and backward, stomping on the ground. He pretends to throw the guitar away, taking off his brown hoodie and throwing it off who knows where.

Matsukawa is off surrounded by the library’s books shelves, throwing books around behind him, nodding off his head and sliding his feet around with tricks and hops, laughing as he moved his long limbs around, making him feel so free.

Oikawa is at the second floor, standing where the stairs begin. He kicks his feet while sliding the other on the ground, he punches and rotates his entire body, repeating the motions over and over again, laughing as he feels he’s getting better by the second.

Hanamaki’s head perks up at the new song starting, “Holy shit Vocaloid?” He calls out everyone, standing up on top of a table, and ushering everyone to dance to the song. Matsukawa is the first to jump on top, balancing himself from the height and smiling down at Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

The two do a few hesitant synchronize steps until Oikawa couldn’t contain his overwhelming joy and pulls himself up on of the long table, lining up right next to Hanamaki, while Matsukawa was at Hanamaki’s right. The three of them start with light dance moves, trying to dance a certain way while Iwaizumi watched them all.

“Iwa-chan! You have to join us too!” Oikawa playfully calls him out, stretching his hands out to help Iwaizumi up. Distracted by the cute nickname now given to him, Iwaizumi is pulled in with Oikawa standing right beside him on his left. As if they knew the dance in their heart, they all started to dance with synchronize steps.

All four of them bend mid waist forward, their left hand on their hips as their right swings away to the music, finger out point up they all turn to face left, but their faces continue to face forward as they were originally. They throw punches as soon as their right hand hits their chest, their left still left at their hips while they all throw in small kicks, switching their feet continuously until they jump to another move.

Throwing their right hand are in the air, and they kick their left leg higher than the last., they jump and throw both their arms in the air, well Matsukawa is a bit slower, hesitant, and Iwaizumi has them only half way up, his face shut with complete shame as he twist his body with the other three.

Oikawa and Hanamaki were the only ones actually keeping it upbeat, dancing along with more movement in their body. As soon as they face towards their original direction, their arms slowly fall back into place; they bend their knees slightly and hop right as soon the song kicks up again.

Kicking their left leg back, and then their right, with their arms stiff and down Hanamaki and Oikawa laugh at how much fun they were having. They hop again, and this time Hanamaki and Oikawa reach out their arms in the air in a diagonal way before they stretch his arm out towards the male next to one another, Hanamaki grabbing Matsukawa with his left and Oikawa holding on to Iwaizumi’s hand with his right.

The two males laugh at their antics, but play along, intertwining their arms together, each partner facing a different direction, they start hopping in a circle with their steps light and dancing along with the song. They let go after a few turns, and they kick up their feet again, slapping their corresponding hand against the heel of their foot before jumping once more, clicking their heels together.

They all laugh as the song goes on, Iwaizumi covering his face, trying his hardest not to laugh but also to cover his blush.

“I can’t believe you guys actually knew the small dance to it!” Oikawa laughs, sitting down on the table before looking up at Iwaizumi who sits right down next to him; Hanamaki and Matsukawa follow soon after.

“Not my proudest moment.” Iwaizumi admits, but he takes his hand away from his face, smiling back at Oikawa with a genuine look in his eyes that he was, in fact having a great time. Oikawa gulps, taking in the shine in Iwaizumi’s eyes that wasn’t there when they all first entered the library.

Biting down his smile, Oikawa looks away until Iwaizumi recalls him back. “Iwa-chan? Really?” Iwaizumi crosses his arms, and that’s when Oikawa could actually admire the male’s attributes. His arms were thick, biceps bulging and the blue t-shirt didn’t make it any better, clinging to Iwaizumi’s muscle.

Oikawa gulps again, and his lips start to feel dry, his eyes don’t leave Iwaizumi’s arms before saying “Because you’re hard as a rock?” he mutters unconsciously, but as soon as he says it his eyes widen and look up at Iwaizumi with a terrified expression. While Iwaizumi doesn’t have time to play it off cool, too flattered and embarrassed that Oikawa had actually said something like that.

“Hey now!” Hanamaki whistles in, holding on to Matsukawa’s arm as he leans forward, holding on to Matsukawa for support so he wouldn’t fall face first on the floor. “This is rated Teen not Mature!”

Iwaizumi frowns instantly, remembering that Hanamaki and Matsukawa were here as well, “Huh? What is that even mean?” he tries to change the subject, his face ready for a fight but Hanamaki only runs off playfully, Iwaizumi jumps off the table as well, just to chase after the boy and give him a reasonable answer.

Matsukawa and Oikawa watch the two get at it laughing at them as Hanamaki uses small shelves to slow Iwaizumi down, but the athlete only jumps over the obstacles and changes course to surprise attack the other. And just like that, another hour passes them.

They were all sitting back in their seats, afraid that the supervisor had left them alone for too long and was ready to check up on them. Unbeknownst to them all, he had fallen asleep at his desk with a book on his head, completely forgetting of the children he had locked into the library.

“So,” Hanamaki drums on the wooden table before him. Turning slightly to look at everyone, “You guys know why I’m here, so like, why are you all here?” curiousness fills in Hanamaki’s mind once again, looking at Matsukawa who was just a horizontal cross from him.

The male takes up his torn backpack, opening the zipper and letting all the contents out on the table. “Does this answer your question?” Matsukawa looks up all three of them, gathering his scattered items together.

Iwaizumi frowns in confusion, not at all sure what he had meant by that. “Did you steal a whole bunch of shit?”

“No,” Matsukawa laughs picking up an aid kit, and slips it in his backpack, then grabbing the marker they used before and dropping it as well. “Actually, this was out of impulse I don’t know why I did this. Now I have to clean it all up.” He whines sullenly.

“Those are all useful things though Matsukawa, I mean you got duct tape, a lighter, batteries, and a watch even, why don’t you just wear it?” Oikawa looks over the male, the closet compared to everyone else as he picks out a few things he recognizes. Matsukawa tells him that you never know when you might need duct tape, but that was a given.

But Matsukawa was right, he had a whole bunch of useful things even a granola bar he had forgotten about until now, and luckily it hasn’t even expired yet. Instead of taking it apart, Matsukawa bites a small portion and passes it Oikawa, who gladly takes a piece then throws it across.

Luckily he passes it to Iwaizumi first, the star catcher grabs it easily, and taking a swift bite, he passes the rest to Hanamaki who gobbles what’s left.

“There was a test yesterday, or well a retake, and I had to be in class on Thursday on time and everything if I wanted to retake it. Since, again, I suck at chemistry I failed it the first time around. But I woke up late, my alarm didn’t go off, and I’m usually the guy that wakes everyone up.” He groans as he remembers what happened that day.

“Anyways, I dash out the door get on my skateboard and skated all the way to school, yelling out sorrys here and there because there was no way I could stop and make it in time. So I finally made it but, there was one minute left so I didn’t change my shoes, didn’t put away my board, or anything. Instead I skated in the hallways, crushing three student’s feet because they don’t know what get the fuck out of the way meant.”

Hanamaki bursts into laughter again, “That was you? Holy shit I thought you were insane!” Hanamaki remembers the scene quite well, he was one of the few who saved his feet, but he had to slam his face against the window in order to do so.

Matsukawa nods his head, feeling a bit happier with the entire situation, “So I make it in time, but a teacher who saw me calls me out and I explained my situation to him, if I didn’t pass this chemistry exam, I won’t graduate.” Matsukawa falls back to his chair, leaning away in relaxation, “Luckily I got one of the better ones, and he understood, giving me only detention for this Saturday and let me off.”

“That’s so amazing!” Oikawa mutters, stars in his eyes as they were told of Matsukawa’s reason, “I was framed sadly. One of my friends, or well, so called friends figured out I was a space nerd.” Hanamaki laughs, but his lips were sealed so a funny noise was made instead, Oikawa glares at the male but continues on with his story, “So he blackmailed me to do whatever he wanted, actually it was on Thursday too!” He nods his head at the memory, looking up with his finger tapping lightly at his chin.

“I was walking back to the main building, and he was holding up a pack of cigarettes, one already in his mouth and as soon as he saw a teacher coming by with no time whatsoever to hide it, he tells me to catch and here I am, confused out of my mind with a pack of cigs in one, and a teacher screaming at my face in another.”

He explains how his friend was at his side, holding a cig behind his back and commanding Oikawa to take the blame, or else that his popularity will plummet to the ground. “And just like that, I told the teacher that it was me who owned the pack. He saw one was missing, and made me hand over the pack and gave me one day of detention, saying that he never expected such behavior of me, and even said that it was a warning.”

“Some shitty friends.” Iwaizumi utters, his own feet now sitting on top of his desk, watching Oikawa.

“Oh, I know.” Oikawa laughs, nodding his head. “I swear, on Monday, Imma tell them to all fuck themselves. Besides I got you guy now, right?” his brown eyes soften as he looks over at Hanamaki who gives him a thumbs up and one large classy grin.

Everyone’s attention soon turns to Iwaizumi, who looks again like he’s in deep thought. But no one says a thing, and Oikawa out of all of them, looks attentive at the baseball player. “I,” Oikawa starts, looking away from Iwaizumi, “I was pretty surprised when I saw you come in.”

Iwaizumi frowns, he drops his legs back to the ground, “Why?” his voice goes back to that deep throaty one, and Oikawa can only look back at him.

“I saw the whole thing, well I mean, I saw you getting yelled at by your coach. I was in the chemistry lab when it all happened I mean, like I was doing some extra work in, and out of nowhere some delinquent kid, with blond hair smashes the windows with a bat, and honestly I was terrified.” Oikawa laughs, looking down at his desk, “he even took out a spray can, and just went crazy on the walls.”

Iwaizumi’s frown deepens, but he listens to Oikawa’s story carefully.

“I was a bit shocked, sitting there for like five minutes trying to realize what was happening, but then you snapped me out of it, you looked pretty mad and when you saw the whole side of the school destroyed I wanted to tell you what happened, but your coach came in, and started yelling and accusing you.” Oikawa shyly looks up at Iwaizumi with a faint smile, “I honestly wanted to tell him the truth, but I was struck in fear again, and before I knew it you guys were gone, and so I got up and hurried to the principle office, telling them what happened.”

Oikawa waits for a response from Iwaizumi, but the male only stares back at Oikawa with a patient expression. He thinks Iwaizumi was going to get mad at him for not stepping in, but he looked rather calm.

“That’s it?”

“Pardon?” Oikawa eyes widen in shock, “What do you mean? That’s why you’re here right? I mean, I told the principle, and it happened Thursday right? So you should’ve been left off right?”

“I wasn’t put in for that.” Iwaizumi claps his hands together, letting them fall between his knees that were spread apart. He looks away to his right, where no one sat. “I mean thanks for that, I was actually surprised on why they didn’t suspend me for what they thought I did, but I’m not here for that.”

“Then why are you here?” Matsukawa speaks up, knowing that if Iwaizumi doesn’t get pushed to say something, he won’t ever.

Before the scholarships, Iwaizumi’s father was as angry as always. Never good at controlling his anger at his own son, he would get accused for the smallest of things, and Iwaizumi could never get a word in to explain himself. That it soon developed to be something big, and grander something just like what his father had.

His anger was passed down to Iwaizumi, if you ever wanna be heard in his house, he had to speak up just as loud and hit just as hard. It was a horrible habit, and repulsive habit to hone that Iwaizumi could never break no matter how much he tries to control himself on his own.

But when the scholarships came around in the mail, congratulating Iwaizumi, his father was happier. Easier to handle and just as good to him as a real father would be. Everything was so perfect for the first few weeks after the letters came in. But then one day, when Iwaizumi had made it to his baseball club, a lot of people were talking behind Iwaizumi’s back, deeming it unfair that Iwaizumi had won the scholarship.

“What does he do all day in practice anyway? Catch the ball? He never even runs, and so what if he was fourth batter?” One of them complains, throwing on his uniform as the others agree. “Not only that, but he already had that academic one! So why get another one! There’s other people here you know?”

He was upset that even his entire team was envious of his fortune. He walked away from the club room, thinking to himself he can skip a day of practice. He already won the scholarship anyways; it wasn’t like they’ll take it away for one missed practice.

He didn’t know his coach had seen the whole commotion, following right behind him. Yet the man quickly caught attention of someone else, the coach of the volleyball team Irihata. The two had talked to one another for a quick few minutes before Iwaizumi’s coach had ran off to find Iwaizumi again.

That is until he saw Iwaizumi in front of shattered windows and graffiti walls, both tools that had caused this were left on the ground, and the man had only assumed.

“When people don’t give me the chance to talk, I get triggered,” Iwaizumi confesses, his nails dig into the wood of his table, stretching it as he pulls his fingers to his palm. “I couldn’t help it but he kept yelling and screaming, it reminded me of my old man, and I just, I had to just explain, but he wouldn’t let me talk!” Iwaizumi explains himself to the other three, “Next thing I knew someone was pulling me off my coach who was beaten to a bloodily pulp. His face was so missed up, caved in even. Shit, he was always so good to me, and I had to fucking do that to him.” He looked at his right fist, remembered how it was covered in blood.

Iwaizumi kept shaking his head, recalling the visual so vividly. “Even now he’s been nothing but good to me. He knows my situation at home, he knows my anger problems, and even when I did that to him, he left me off. But the school couldn’t have that, they had to punish me somehow, taking both my scholarships and ripping up it up in front of me, and giving me detention for every Saturday til the end of the year.” Iwaizumi goes back to tapping his fingers on the table, “Shit, my life feels like shit now. On Friday my entire baseball team looked at me in fear, all the teachers and staff, they were all too fucking afraid to approach me or say my name.”

He looks up at the library entrance, “Whoever that guy is, even he was afraid of me, no matter how much he screamed or threatened me, that look in his eyes, is the same look I got all day Friday.”

Oikawa shakes his head, “They can’t do that, the school can’t take away your scholarships, that actually illegal, that’s basically stealing all your money other programs, promised you. I know the academic one; I applied to it to, but sadly lost.” He laughs as Iwaizumi’s eyes widen in surprise. “There’s nothing about having to be a good student besides being one in academics. You could’ve killed three people and it would still be going to you.”

Oikawa nods his head at his statement, hoping that he was right. But he had to be, the requirements were all there, there was nothing that said Iwaizumi would be revoked if he did anything like he did. “I am hundred percent confident that it’s illegal. Just get your dad to call them up, and boom! You’ll get it back”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m hundred percent Iwa-chan! Didn’t you hear me? Hundred percent!” Oikawa exclaims, and Iwaizumi only laughs. He shuts his eyes tightly, his body looking a thousand times more relaxed and laughs. Oikawa’s breath is automatically taken away at the childish laughter that comes from Iwaizumi.

“Well, good news for you huh Iwaizumi?” Matsukawa laughs as well, “But the real question here is Hanamaki, if you’re so rich why are you in a private school like ours? I mean, it’s not as classy as other ones, but still with your money I bet you can go on and get out of here.”

“I wanted to ask you the same thing Mattsun!” Oikawa budges in, “Aoba Johsai isn’t the richest of school, but you have to get some money coming in if your attending here of all places.”

“Barely passed the entrance exams and they even have a program for poor people like me.” He points his thumb at himself, with a lazy grin, “Also, nice nickname.” He comments right after and Oikawa thanks him for the compliment.

“Hey hey! I was asked the question first! Also, totally not fair, I want a nickname too!” he smiles up at Oikawa, who looks away, pondering on a good name.

Snapping his fingers he points at Hanamaki with excitement, “Makki!”

“Makki it is!” Hanamaki cheers, but then starts to explain himself, “Well, since I’m always moving about here and there, I was like better not waste money on me, also there’s another factor, richer high schools have their students require to stay in dorms and that’s more lonely since I would have restricted freedom and all. Also you need a nickname too!”

“Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi hurriedly says, confident that the name should stick.

“I don’t want to be Shittykawa!” Oikawa gawks, slamming his hand against the table and looking at Iwaizumi reproachfully.

“Well pick then, either Shittykawa or Crappykawa.” Iwaizumi’s frown softens, letting Oikawa decide for himself what he would like to be called.

Pouting, Oikawa taps his finger back to his chin, “Well if I had to pick, I guess Crappykawa.”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki both mentally share a thought, _He’s actually choosing instead of fighting either off?_

Everyone goes back to their relaxed state. Waiting for the supervisor to come and check up on them. Yet another hour passes, and they only had one left before detention was officially over.

Matsukawa looks at the paper he wrote his name on, admitting to everyone else that he hasn’t started his essay. Hanamaki looks down at his own paper as well, “Same.” He comments, and Iwaizumi leaves them at a grunt, agreeing with the other two. They know Oikawa already has done his, and none of them bother to look at Oikawa either, but the male couldn’t help he was being judged.

“How about we just make one combing all of our ideas?” Matsukawa prompts jokingly, knowing that everyone would only say that he just didn’t want to write his own since he always lacked in the proper Japanese.

But Hanamaki nodded his head, “Yeah! That sounds really cool actually!” Turning in his seat, he looks at Iwaizumi, “What ya say Iwaizumi? Wanna combine forces and fight off the evil villain Essay man?” Iwaizumi smiles, at Hanamaki’s narrator voice of a superhero cartoon film. Nodding his head.

“Great, it’s decided then!”

Oikawa huffs and everyone turns their attention to the male who grumpy looks down at his paper.

“What?” Hanamaki questions, “Do you wanna write with us too? We have room for one more!”

Oikawa bites his lower lip, debating if he should. But as soon as he weighs the pros and cons, he looks over at Iwaizumi who’s patiently waiting for him to say something as well. It wasn’t like he was going to get a grade, and it wasn’t going to affect anything on his behalf, so he nods his head, agreeing.

“Great, you’ll write it then!” Hanamaki declares and Oikawa automatically was caught in the trap.

“Wait a minute; you just wanted me to write it! That’s cheating!”

Everyone laughs, but Matsukawa shakes his head, “No, it’s honestly because you’re better at writing you know? Like, you have a way with words, something to move people you know?” He tips his chair up, leaning against its two back legs.

Everyone nods their head in agreement, and Oikawa sighs in defeat, grabbing a piece of paper he stole from up front to write a letter that was from all of them, instead of individual essays.

By the time the supervisor had actually woken up and realized it was two minutes past the time he was supposed to let out the students, he dashed toward the door and unlocked it, only to see the four already lined up at the door waiting to be let out. He coughs into his fist, a bit embarrassed that he had fallen asleep. But it wasn’t like any of them knew.

He lets them all out without another word. Knowing that if he spoke in a groggily voice he would be caught; especially if the observant Oikawa was in the small group. He passes them all their phones that were in the plastic bin, Hanamaki dropping in his devices carefully into his bag expect for his second phone.

He passes it to Matsukawa, “I already know that number, so I’ll text you yeah?” he asked, not a tint of nervousness fills his voice and it causes Matsukawa to nod his head.

“Yeah.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa soon had their arms twisted up, both on one another’s shoulders, they walked out with identical grins on their face. Iwaizumi lets out Oikawa first, but Oikawa only frowns at him, and grabs on to his arm and they both walk out at the same time like the other two.

They joke and laugh all the way to the entrance of the school, and walked with a silent moment as they had head towards the gate. The cars to their parents were already waiting; Hanamaki and Matsukawa walk ahead only a few steps until they stop, still hidden from the cars.

Hanamaki parts from Matsukawa, even throwing off his pink bomber jacket. “You need more color on you Issei.” He throws it around Matsukawa’s shoulders, and the man only laughs.

“Whatever you say Pinky, but that name isn’t going to change just because you don’t have this jacket on.”

“Damn, I was really hoping to call you Pinky.” They go back to their weird position, heading for the entrance gates to say goodbye and head in their own car.

Oikawa stops Iwaizumi from going any further, standing in the same spot Matsukawa and Hanamaki had stopped at. “Your dad is probably not here right? I, well, I can get you a ride home, and not only that, but I can also help with the scholarships you know? I, my mom has a friend, ah, she’s a lawyer, we can. I mean well, I can contact her if you like?” Oikawa starts to mummer, trying to make sense of what he wants to say.

But Iwaizumi only picks up Oikawa chin, asking him to look at him. He gives Oikawa another one of those killer smiles and gently kisses him. Oikawa’s eyes widen but when Iwaizumi pulls away, he wakes up from the little trance to stop Iwaizumi, but the baseball player reassures him.

“It’s okay, you did more than enough already, let me handle the rest yeah?”

Oikawa nods his head and Iwaizumi chuckles, as he was about to turn away from Oikawa, the boy pulls on Iwaizumi’s brown hoodie sleeve, causing the male to look back. Oikawa grabs hold of Iwaizumi’s neck, pulling the male towards him and landing his own lips back at Iwaizumi’s.

The kiss was just as gently, but there was so much more passion into it. Pressing his lips closer to Iwaizumi, the two moved their lips with fierce determination. Never breaking eye contact Oikawa traps Iwaizumi’s bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it back a bit before letting it go. Half lidded eyes, and breath short the two stayed there for a good while before Hanamaki called out, “Teens and up!”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Iwaizumi screams back, only then realizing that his grip on Oikawa’s waist was tight. He coughs and pulls away, Oikawa only smiles down at Iwaizumi before taking a step back as well.

The four of them all head to the entrance, Iwaizumi walks Oikawa to the door of his mother’s car before letting the boy go with just one final wave.

Matsukawa introduces Hanamaki to his mother, and the triplets instantly want Hanamaki’s attention. “Holy,” he shuts his mouth just as soon as he remembers they were just five year olds, “They all look alike!” he smiles up at Matsukawa and the male nods his head, agreeing with him.

As Matsukawa sit into the passenger seat, Hanamaki compliments his bomber jacket one last time and heads off to his father’s car.

All three cars dash on out of there, and Iwaizumi stays put watching them all disappear when they’re far enough. He sighs, and looks up at the sky, it was still a bit cold, but the sun was out and giving him some heat to walk home in. That is until a familiar car rolls up at the street and parks right in front of Iwaizumi.

The window rolls down, and his father is there waiting for Iwaizumi to get in. He doesn’t say anything and neither does Iwaizumi, he opens the door and slides in, telling his father of what he heard from Oikawa.

The supervisor head towards the tables that the kids had been sitting in, first to Hanamaki’s desk, only to grab a sheet a paper with the name Takahiro written on it. He frowns and hurriedly heads towards Matsukawa’s desk, and the same is on his own paper. Looking ahead, he grabs onto Oikawa’s paper.

_Sir,_

_I’m sorry but I actually have no idea who you are, and I even broken the rule to ask my fellow detentionees if they happened to know. Sadly you’re not all that known, considering we are all from different classes, as well that we all are from different groups. As you probably know, I’m someone a lot of people suck up to, always the popular kid. But I can’t simply write what you asked us to write about, because we think differently than you do._

_You see Matsukawa as a poor kid, who doesn’t take the advantages of what he has. His friends see him as an outcast as they are, poor and have amazing skills in skateboarding. But in all honestly what we see is a hardworking student, who tries his hardest and does his best in order to keep going with a smile on his face. He finds the small things enjoyable and he takes every opportunity he has to advance._

_You see Iwaizumi as a delinquent, someone who has the capacity to overpower you and a lot other adults, and someone who throws away his potential simply because he couldn’t control his anger. His friends see someone not to pick a fight with, as well as someone who has a mental issue. But we don’t see that in him. Just like Matsukawa, he tries just as hard as him to succeed, to prove that he is, in fact, the best. He fights for his position, and he doesn’t take any short cuts._

_You see me as some prep boy, a pretty face to a pretty attitude, my friends see me as the deity of this school, and praise me like I’m a statue, but what we all saw today, was that I was a fake who relies on the quantity of friends instead of the quality. But that doesn’t mean I am third degree trash. It just means I need to improve and show people that I am so much better than a pretty face. That I am happy with who I truly am._

_You see Hanamaki as a rich boy who thinks he’s better than everyone; you think that he throws money at every chance he gets. But what we saw today was a brave face, either it is insanity or bravely, we saw it. We saw a boy who was broken in so many ways, only ever calling for help. He doesn’t want luxuries or the fame, he simply wanted was a companion, and he earned himself three today._

_You see, no matter if you’re a…_

_...Bum,_

_…Delinquent,_

_…Prince, or a_

_…Fat Cat,_

_When you spend eight hours stuck in a room with one another, you start to realize that no one is all that different, and that we need to be honest, and be true to ourselves so that we can fully understand another person to the extent of befriending them. With no lies behind our words, we claim that we were glad that we were all slapped into his room together, because as we leave, we will now know ourselves more._

_And we will continue to be friends despite what others think of us._

_Because not everyone understands us as we do to each other._

_Sincerely yours,_

 

“Hey,” Iwaizumi points his finger at the written Aoba of Aoba Johsai on Oikawa paper, “You can also read this as Seijou right?” he looks up at Oikawa who looks down at the kanji. He looks at it for a bit, and then decides that Iwaizumi had a point.

“You're right.”

 

_The Seijou Club_

**青葉** **会**

 

The supervisor gathers the three papers together walking towards Iwaizumi’s desk, grabbing hold of the male’s own name for what he assumes, but instead of the Hajime he suspects to see, he reads something else on the paper.

**一徹**

_Dauntless._

_Obstinate._

**Author's Note:**

> I study Haikyuu General Studies, and I major in Aoba Johsai and minor in Shiratorizawa, so I sticked with the characters I knew best....Aoba Johsai's third years!!! 
> 
> Yet...I somehow made them OCC huh? I feel like I did at least. 
> 
> Also the songs they've mentioned is Rage On, (From Free, ;) )  
> Also I don't know any iconic Japanese moves they might know, because I lack culture. So I had them dance to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIzFcjV3b_4), start it at :48 to 1:03.
> 
> Also excuse me for my messy writing, I wanted to be quick and get this out of mind, because I have so many other fics to think about, *laughs nervously*


End file.
